


the lines on his skin point me where i need to go

by queenhomeslice



Series: Promptober 2020 [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Crush, Gladio gets in his feelings real bad, M/M, Promptober 2020, Tattoos, promptio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Prompto gets inked.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum
Series: Promptober 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937668
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59





	the lines on his skin point me where i need to go

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final  
> Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own  
> the rights to FF in any way.
> 
> —————
> 
> Yooooooo I’m back on my bullshit—that’s right, more Prompto-with-gun-crotch-tattoos. 
> 
> I’m never letting this concept die. Ever.
> 
> Promptober Day 6: Tattoos

  
Prompto’s leaned back on the table, flat on his back, arms behind his head. He wishes he had a stress ball or something—he'd known tattoos would hurt, but like...not _this_ much. Well, actually—the pain is...weird. On the surface, yes, it hurts; and since Prompto lost all that weight and his abdomen is fairly flat, the needle jamming ink around his hipbones stings like a bitch. But underneath it all, the repetitive hits send shockwaves of warmth through him, manifesting in goosebumps all over his skin, making him tingle from his ears to his toes.

It’s not quite the pleasure-pain of getting fucked, but it’s close; so Prompto just focuses on staying still and deep breathing—and thinks about his overwhelming crush on Gladiolus Amicitia as he gets professionally inked for the first time.

It’s a little pathetic, Prompto thinks, being so head-over-heels for someone who looks like Gladio. Gladio’s built like a brick shithouse—Prompto saw him deadlift a small car once, and he’d jacked off so much once he’d gotten home that Prompto thought his dick was gonna fall off. He’s smart—not as obvious to most people, because mostly they just see Gladio as the prince’s muscle, but Prompto’s overheard Gladio talking with Ignis about everything from history to foreign policy to battle strategy, so he knows that Gladio’s big head isn’t empty. And for all his sarcasm and teasing, underneath it all, Gladio’s _nice_ —Prompto can tell how much he cares about Noctis and Ignis, and knowing that Gladio’s care extends to him as well makes Prompto’s poor heart skip a beat. Gladio’s a natural charmer, knowing how to schmooze his way in and around any situation—he could charm the spots off a coeurl. Prompto gets lost in that honey-amber gaze when they’re training, when they’re at the diner downtown, when Gladio is talking about something as mundane as the weather. Prompto’s surprised he hasn’t bitten his tongue off at this point trying to keep himself from saying _Please ruin me_.

Prompto’s always going out of his way to try to prove himself to Noctis and his retainers, but Gladio’s an extra special case. In private, Noct teases Prompto mercilessly about his crush; and when Prompto’s not at the Citadel, Noctis will send him pictures of Gladio shirtless, or _worse—_ when they’re out of the showers after training and Gladio has a teeny tiny towel knotted around his waist. Prompto has a whole album dedicated to Gladio pics, and he’d probably have to move to Niflheim if the royal shield ever found out. It also doesn’t help that Gladio is older, and nobility, and, and...

“Hey kid, we’re almost through, wanna take a look so far?”

“Huh?” Prompto’s eyes fly open and he turns his head to look at the tattoo artist.

“Fallin’ asleep on me?” The older woman chuckles as she wipes away some of the excess ink around Prompto’s lower abdomen. “Sit up, take a look. Just gotta do the detail of your barbed wire and shade the roses around the guns.”

Prompto yawns and stretches, then gets up on shaky legs to look at himself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

His jaw drops at the grayscale twin pistols that are now permanently positioned just above his crotch. Prompto steps up close, admiring the detail and the shading on the guns—it's absolutely _perfect._ The tattoos cover up most of his old, faded stretch marks, and they’re a testament to his work-in-progress skills as Noct’s personal Crownsguard. And maybe, just maybe...Gladio will think he’s cool.

“Look okay, darlin’?”

Prompto nods, wiping the tears from his eyes. His whole body is flushed, the freckles scattered across his nose are barely visible under the redness dusted across his whole face. “Looks so good,” he says, nodding. “Thank you so much, Kate.”

Kate waves her colorful arm and grins. “Nothin’ to it, baby. Take a sip of water, you look like a lobster.”

“Sorry,” Prompto mutters sheepishly as he reaches for his steel water bottle, guzzling the ice-cold contents. He shivers as the water rushes down his throat, cooling him from the inside out. He glances at his shirt and leather jacket on the chair in the corner—he can’t wait to get dressed again.

Kate just laughs and pats the pleather-cushioned table again, and Prompto assumes the position.

Not twenty minutes later, Prompto hears a familiar rumble from the doorway.

“Blondie?”

Prompto’s world grinds to a halt, even as he feels the ink gun continue to stab his lower hips for another minute before letting up. He turns his head to see Gladio slack-jawed and slightly red-faced, standing in the doorway of Kate’s back room.

“Heya, Gladio! Didn’t expect you in today. Need a touch up on your bird?”

Gladio nods dumbly, suddenly unsure of what to say. He looks at Prompto, who’s flushed red and glistening with sweat as he lies shirtless on the table—his skinny jeans and boxers are pulled incredibly low, and the guns are pointing right at...

“Alright, you can pop a squat in that chair. Lemme finish the kid here and we’ll see what needs to be touched up.” Kate turns her attention back to Prompto, waving him to the corner.

Gladio sits in the chair, careful not to knock Prompto’s shirt and jacket to the floor. The lanky blond has closed his eyes, and Gladio can see him shaking with control—biting his lip, exhaling hard through his nose, hands clutching at the hair on the nape of his slender, pale neck.

Gladio gulps and crosses his legs, squirming. He pulls out his phone to try and distract himself, but he finds that he can’t look away from the oddly erotic scene in front of him. The way Prompto lets go of his lip when Kate lets up for a few seconds, plush skin blossoming back to soft pink; and the way Prompto’s body has started to fill out and bulk up since starting training, especially his arms. Or the way his smooth, pale skin looks with so much ink drilled into it. Or the way his soft blond hair catches in the bright fluorescent light. Or the way...

“All righty, Prompto. That should do ya.” Kate finishes up the tattoo, wiping away the excess ink with a wet paper towel. She places some clear aftercare wrap across Prompto’s lower abdomen and tapes the edges. “Leave the plastic on for twelve hours. Wash with warm soap and water—no super hot showers for the first few days. Apply fragrance-free, water-based lotion three or four times a day to keep it moist, and you can do petroleum-based lubricants once a day.”

Prompto nods and gets up, going over to the full-length mirror again to see the finished product.

“No sunscreen,” Kate continues, washing her hands. “Loose-fitting clothing for at least a week, and don’t pick at it when it starts to scab over.” She chuckles. “Gladio there can fill you in on all the aftercare details if you forget anything. But don’t hesitate to come back, okay?”

Prompto focuses on his reflection in the mirror, and not at Gladio, who’s _right there_ and staring at him in confusion.

“Thank you so much,” Prompto manages. He chances a side-eye at Gladio. “So uh...what do you think, big guy?”

The answer that Prompto gets launches him into orbit.

“I think that after I’m done, you should come back to my place so I can inspect those guns a little more.” Gladio lifts his eyes to Prompto’s face, holding his breath in anticipation.

Prompto blinks. “I, um...” He cocks his head. “Gladio, are you...”

“Inviting you to my place. Alone. Yes.” Gladio allows himself a wolfish grin as realization blossoms over Prompto’s already-red face. He winks at the younger man. “Don’t go anywhere, baby. This won’t take long.”

Prompto just nods, heart fluttering wildly as Gladio sits on the table for Kate to inspect the sprawling eagle tattoo on his tanned skin.


End file.
